


Everybody Wants to Rule the World

by jenajasper



Series: Lean On Me [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaker Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Cooks, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Cook Dean Winchester, My heroes have always been cowboys, Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), Soul-Searching, drunken sam, western movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenajasper/pseuds/jenajasper
Summary: "You lied to me, again!""Something's broken here. Talking me out of boarding up hell. Or...or tricking me into letting Gadreel possess me. I can't trust you."*-Sam to Dean
Relationships: Anger - Relationship, Big brother comfort, Brotherly Love - Relationship, Caretaker Dean - Relationship, Cowboy movie, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean feels helpless - Relationship, Happy ending - Relationship, S2e11 Playthings, S8e23 Sacrifice, S9e12 Sharp Teeth, Sam and Dean fight - Relationship, Sam feels guilty - Relationship, Sam gets drunk, Sam has regrets - Relationship, Sam is insecure - Relationship, forgiveness - Relationship, mention Gadreel
Series: Lean On Me [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/360326
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

"We're family."  
"You say that like it's some kind of cure-all..."  
" So what? We're not family now? *"

Dean sat alone in his room and prayed. 

"Cas, he's all I have. How can we not be brothers anymore? Since I was four years old my job was to take care of him, to protect him. But what does a four-year-old or a ten-year-old or even a fourteen-year-old know about that? I just did the best I could and that was whatever felt right so that, in the end, he was ok.  
And when Dad told me that I might have to kill him, I couldn't understand those words. But I did get the part about saving him, and that's what drives me. 

I know he's a grown man. I know he can take care of himself. But when he gave me that speech about seeing the light in the tunnel, he wasn't ready to die or really willing to die. So, I had to stop him in that church. That's what he really wanted me to do. we would find another way.

Sam is angry about Gadreel. Gadreel! He told me he was Ezekiel, a good soldier, you said. How was I supposed to know? All I wanted was to save my brother's life. 

Why can't Sam understand that I can't watch him, assist him or allow him to die?

He's angry that I left. But I wasn't running away. I just wanted to stop hurting him. He says he can't trust me. I will always try to save him. He can trust that.  
I know people have gotten hurt, died from decisions I made and I have to live with that.  
But Cas, he barely speaks to me except about the work. But we're back together now. I can fix this.  
He's right, you know; something is broken. But it's in me.  
He doesn't need me to take care of him. I know that, I do. 

But I need him. that's what takes care of me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam didn't need to look at the clock to know it was late. He tried to rub the dryness from his eyes but, he couldn't get rid of the weariness. They had said their goodnights hours ago and Sam figured his brother was fast asleep. What keeps him up? We're back working; he should be happy. Stacking the books and marking his place with bits of paper, Sam realized how truly tired he really was. He was hoping to get some rest but his brain just wouldn't stop. All that crap Dean said about family. Was he kidding? Like it was some kind of magic word that gives you permission to just do whatever without thinking about consequences or how it affects other people. It can't always be what you want, Dean! 

His thoughts were spinning but he needed to get to bed. He was tempted to lie down on the couch and not take that long walk down the hallway but, he really needed to sleep. He needed his own bed. As Sam passed Dean's door, he heard his brother's voice. He didn't really want to listen but his curiosity got the better of him. It wasn't a conversation; it was just Dean. 

"...he gave me that speech about seeing the light in the tunnel, he wasn't ready to die. So, I had to stop him..."  
Sam had forgotten he'd said those words; maybe it wasn't all Dean's fault..

"..He told me he was Ezekiel, a good soldier you said..."  
Sam was puzzled. He was certain his brother was alone. He huffed; now he understood. Dean was talking to Cas.

"..he barely speaks to me..He doesn't need me...But I need him"  
Sam felt he was listening to Dean's soul. The pain touched him and he raised his hand to knock. 

His hand was poised to knock. Perhaps he took one second too long. Perhaps he had one thought too many. Perhaps he was just too angry. Sam lowered his arm and walked down the hallway. But he didn't go to his room; he went to the closest place with alcohol, back to the library. He knew he wasn't there to work and alcohol wasn't usually his problem solver. He was still so angry. No! He was pissed. 

"Just because you're sorry. Just because you can't let go", Sam grumbled in between shots.

"You keep telling yourself you're doing the right thing. Spin it however you want, Dean. Deep down you know it's all about you. I'm sorry Dad put all that on you and I'm sorry you think you're still responsible for me but I can make my own decisions. I'm just so sick and tired of all the secrets and all the lies." Sam took another drink.

"Because of your crap, Gadreel and the rest of the angels are out there doing God knows what. Kevin is dead! And Crowley and Abaddon are wreaking havoc everywhere they go." Another drink, maybe two.

"I could have closed the Gates of Hell; who cares how messed up I got? I was ready to die for that. Closing the Gates was our job!" Not only had Sam forgotten how many drinks he'd had, but he also forgot how too much alcohol makes your voice carry. 

"So you saved me Dean. Now what!?"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sat in his room for, what he felt, was a very long time. What was he going to do now? 

He had hoped to feel better after speaking to Cas but, with no one talking back, it didn't help much. He toyed with the idea of finding Sam to try and fix this. But after the earlier confrontation, he just couldn't listen to it anymore. His thoughts became vocal: "That hurt, Sam. How do we stop being brothers? We don't care anymore?"

He started to feel like a trapped animal. Disgusted with the situation and disappointed in his own behavior, Dean decided to go out. He had to get away and clear his head. He had bared his soul to his little brother in that parking lot and got stomped on. He wouldn't do it again, not without fighting back. He grabbed his jacket and his keys. As he opened the bedroom door, he heard Sam's voice. It didn't sound right; he was drunk. Dean huffed, rolling his eyes and slowly shaking his head, Sam would be very sick in the morning. 

He still wanted out and wanted to avoid his brother even more. This could get ugly real quick. Unfortunately for Dean, the layout of the bunker had the front door not only up a flight of stairs but also in view of the library. Dean chastised himself, "that's why there's a garage, you moron". He stood in the hallway and tried not to listen to the tirade. He heard the bottle as it was slammed onto the wooden table; then took slow deep breaths in an attempt to block out the rants and calm himself. They were both so angry. 

After one more outburst, it was silent. Dean figuredSam was either passed out or asleep. He started towards the door looking into the library as he walked by. Sam was seated with his head back and his eyes closed. As Dean started up the stairs, he heard his name called, loudly. He didn't stop. The chair hit the floor and glass shattered. Dean stopped and turned; he wasn't going to avoid this any longer. 

Descending the stairs Dean spoke slowly and calmly. "Sam, you're drunk. we can do this in the morning."  
"Why wait, Dean? so you can sneak out again like a coward?"  
Coward? Dean tightly gripped the banister. It took all the control he could muster to swallow that insult. If anyone else had said that to him, the least he would have gotten was a bloody lip. "Look, I wasn't..." He caught himself. This would just become another argument and their dance card was filled. The combination of staggering and menacing that Dean witnessed, as Sam approached, would normally strike him as funny. But his sense of humor was buried deep. 

"What are you trying to do, Sam?"  
Sam was done talking. His head was pounding. He walked towards his brother without knowing what would come next. He took two long strides, misjudged the distance and swung a wild roundhouse spinning almost a full 360. Instinctively, Dean reached out and grabbed his brother. The momentum pulled them both down into a heap on the floor, Dean managing to wrap his arms around his younger brother and land on top. 

"Dean, let me go!"  
"No, not until you calm down. Dammit, Sam hold still!"  
"I'm warning you. Let go."  
Dean held tight. Up until now, they had avoided any serious injury and he knew, soon enough, exhaustion from struggling combined with all that drinking should subdue Sam.  
"Dean, I gotta get up."  
"Are you gonna stop?"  
"I'm still kicking your ass."  
"Is that your final answer", Dean quipped, unable to resist, even as he knew it would only irritate his brother more.  
Sam continued to squirm but his brother was not letting go. Suddenly, Sam went limp and his breathing became erratic and slightly labored.  
"Finally", Dean mouthed, loosening his grip while rolling Sam on his back.

Little brother's face had lost some color and beads of sweat had collected, dampening his hairline. Dean had become anxious with concern for him and realization struck a moment too late. As quickly as he could, he flipped Sam onto his side but, the damage was done. Dean found his hands, their clothes, Sam's chin, and the floor were covered with the aftermath of Sam's drinking binge. 

He threw up.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean yanked off his top shirt, having left his jacket at the foot of the stairs, and wiped his hands and Sam's face. He tried to clean the floor but the shirt was useless. He tossed it aside and focused his attention on his brother, who was now lying on his back. Sam's breathing was deep and slow and his eyes were closed. Putting everything else aside, Dean knew it was big brother time. "You don't need me to take care of you right, Sammy?" He spoke softly without malice or sarcasm. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

When Dean returned, he found that Sam had barely moved. Laying down his bundle, a combination of wet and dry towels, Dean placed a cold cloth on Sam's forehead. Reacting to the chill, he opened his eyes. He couldn't really focus but, he didn't really need to; he knew he was in good hands. After washing up his face and hands, Dean lightly tapped his brother's cheek.

"Sammy, you gotta try and get up now, ok?"  
"I feel like crap, Dean."  
"I know that, 'Drunken Master'*. Let's go."

Dean slid his hands beneath his brother's shoulders and lifted him. Sam groaned at the change in altitude of his head. He rested it on Dean's shoulder before giving a small nod, signaling his readiness to continue. Slowly, they stood up Sam mostly supported by his brother, then took the long walk down the hall. After putting Sam to bed Dean went back to clean up. He dispatched the mishap by the stairs with a mop-up and a load of laundry. He found the library littered with varying sized pieces of glass and sticky, half-dried splotches of alcohol. With a sigh and an uncensored remark, he got to work. 

Taking a break, he checked on Sam. Sleep was best at this point so, Dean didn't disturb him. Upon closing the door he said his goodnight and added, "I guess we'll do this in the morning after all."  
Having put the place back together, Dean reached for a bottle then decided what he really needed was a shower. The heat and steam revitalized him. A clean t-shirt and sweats made him feel like a new man. And the man was hungry.

Sam opened his eyes. His mouth was dry and pasty and his head hurt. Grabbing one of the two bottles of water he found on his nightstand, he drank half before he saw the pills. He swallowed them, too. He had no idea how long he slept or even how he had gotten to bed. But as bad as he felt he knew he wasn't going back to sleep. 

Having satisfied his hunger, Dean was at the sink with his back to the door when Sam walked in.  
"Dean, what happened last night?"  
Without turning around Dean answered, "What do you remember?"  
"I was drinking? I mean, I don't remember after but I remember before."  
Dean's posture stiffened. He remembered all of it. He turned to face Sam. "We don't have to do this. Go shower and I'll fix you something to eat."  
"Don't, Dean."  
"Please, Sam. You'll feel better and then.." He paused, looking for the best way to say it, "whatever you want to do."  
Sam left the room without speaking. Dean shook his head and went to work on Sam's breakfast. 

He hated to admit it but, Dean was right; the shower did help. Back in his room, Sam finished what was left in the open water bottle and dressed. He wasn't looking forward to another argument but this had to come to a head. There was just too much tension between them. He could smell breakfast before he got to the kitchen. Dean smiled, "Feel better?"  
Sam took a seat before answering, "A little, yeah."  
"Good. I made you something special."  
Sam grimaced. "Please don't say it's a greasy pork chop in a dirty ashtray." **  
Dean laughed and it felt good. "You remember that?"

Serving up his brother's breakfast and himself another cup of coffee, Dean felt there would be no more pleasant conversation. So he made a decision. "Look, take your time. Eat your breakfast. I'll be in the library when you're ready." Walking out the door, he said mostly to himself: "let's just get this over with." Sam turned his head and watched his brother leave. 

Once in the library, Dean flipped open the laptop and searched the news sites. He wasn't actually looking for a job; there was enough going on right here. He thought to himself, "Who the hell makes an appointment to fight?" He was seriously considering a drink when Sam walked in. 

"Hey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * 1978 film produced by Ng See-Yuen, starring Jackie Chan  
> ** "Playthings" Season 2 Episode 11. Written by Matt Witten


	4. Chapter 4

Dean looked up when Sam walked in and said, "So, welcome back to the scene of the crime."  
Sam rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling and thought, 'always a smartass', then looked at his brother and said, Thanks. Listen, Dean.."  
"No, you listen," Dean was surprisingly calm. "I don't know what your plans are but, I'm tired of being the punching bag. Lately, I've felt pretty lousy. Blaming myself for a lot of things, like everything."  
"It's not about that." Sam was about to continue when Dean put up his hand to stop him. 

"Wait, Sam. Let me finish. You know, Cas told me something about doing the wrong things for the right reasons and I thought it was crap. But now, I kinda see what he meant. Maybe we end up with a mess and all we can do is fix it. But, I can't keep punishing myself for doing what I think is right."

"We just don't see things the same way anymore, Dean. I can't trust you to do what I think is right."  
"Like saving your ass? That will always be the right thing to me!""Well that's the problem, isn't it? It's not about us and f one of us has to die to get the job done..."  
Dean interrupted, "Then, that would be me!" 

Sam's composure was weakening. "Stop it, Dean. Why do you always do that? Dude, you are so full of it. You don't want to die any more than anyone else. You work too hard at staying alive. What, do you think so little of yourself that your only value is being a martyr? Then why fight? Just let somebody kill you!" Sam hated doing this to his brother, exposing the inner workings that no one should see, "Just be honest about it."

"That's enough!" Dean slammed his fist on the table as he got up from his seat. He tried to control himself but, he was tired of being called a liar. As he approached Sam he said, "You know who's the real hypocrite? hat would be you" And he punctuated it with a forceful shove. Sam pushed back hard enough that Dean grabbed a chair to keep his balance. Turning away, Sam pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead then ran his fingers through his hair, in an attempt to calm down. He had never wanted this to become physical. 

Any other time, Dean would have come back swinging but, he had tried to avoid this fight for two days. So, he kept his distance. "you were ready to die, Sam really? You stopped me from doing the trials because you said, I was on a suicide mission. You told me there was a light in the tunnel; you would do the trials and we would live happily ever after. Remember that?" Dean spoke as if the words hurt him.

Sam couldn't face his brother. "I'm not perfect, Dean. and I was naive to think we could do the trials without consequences. I resigned myself to finish it and then you showed up."  
Dean never questioned his decision to save his brother that night or any other time. He couldn't understand why Sam did. He walked towards him and put a hand on Sam's arm attempting to turn him around but, he stood firm.  
"I will always try to save you. That's what I do. That's who I am."  
Sam shrugged his brother's hand off and, in frustration, walked out of the room. As he left he said, "Dean, you just don't get it."

As he watched Sam storm out Dean said, "You're wrong, you know. It's always been about you and me."

Sam halted immediately as he felt every muscle tighten. His nerves sizzling under the skin and his hands coiled into almost on their own. He turned to face his brother. Dean was not afraid of Sam, not his size or his temper. But he felt uncomfortable looking at the man approaching him.   
"You know what the problem is, Dean?" Sam grabbed his brother's arms in an attempt to pin them to his side and shook him once. Dean looked up and smiled, "I love it when you take charge Sammy but...", and with that, he swung his arms and broke the hold; it took more effort than he expected and it sowed on his face. 

"You wanna fight? We can fight but,.." The fist came hard and fast. Dean was stunned. It wasn't enough to knock him down but it did force him back a step or two. His own fist came up. But he kept his distance and slowly loosened his fingers and touched his lip, checking for blood. Then he spoke, "If you want to go there, we can. That won't fix anything." As angry as he was Sam was not anxious for a physical confrontation either. He did agree with Dean on that. 

"You still think this family thing is a reward? " Realizing there was no appropriate answer, Dean kept silent. Sarcastically he continued, "As long as we keep it together we'll be happy ?" Sam paused. "Don't uou understand it's a freaking curse. Since day one you and me, being family, being brothers, has done nothing but hut us and everyone we care about."  
This struck Dean to his core. All he had, all he ever wanted was his family, his brother. He spent his whole life watching out for them, just to keep it together.   
Sam continued, "When you came into that church, I was probably a minute away from the end. I didn't know I was going to die but, I knew I wasn't right. And I was ok with it. We would have done our job."

"But Sam, if you had known."

"No, Dean. You walked in and everything changed. All of a sudden I didn't want to go through with it. Nothing else mattered, except not to disappoint you!"

"But we can fix this. All of it. We just have to stick together."

"Dammit, Dean. Aren't you listening? That's the problem, this bond. That's what stops us from doing what we have to do."   
Dean thought he was listening to a foreign language. If this was the problem, there would be no fixing, not for him. In almost a whisper he asked, "Is that why you didn't look for me in Purgatory? Did that solve the problem for you? "

The silence was deafening. Dean needed to know he was wrong and Sam needed to answer. Sam said, "I had no idea what happened to you. I just had to go on by myself."  
"You did alright. You found company." The comment reeked with insincerity.   
"Don't dod this. I didn't try to replace you; I couldn't. " Sam's thoughts went to the friendship between Benny and Dean. He remembered how hurt he felt and unnecessary. Dean continued, "But without me, you didin't feel responsible anymore, right? You walked away and became Joe Normal just like you always wanted. "

Dean didn't want to believe that his brother had come back out of obligation. He would never walk away and leave Sam anywhere. They both knew that.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam tried to reassure his brother. "I know what you've done for me. You're always doing for me."  
Dean didn't understand why Sam needed to state the obvious. Sam continued, "The only time you lived your own life was when I was gone, at college, with Lisa."  
Dean couldn't listen to this. "Do you think I was happy? That I wasn't worried about you? Sam, I was four years old when I started looking out for you.!"  
Sam sighed, almost a groan in frustration. "Dean, I'm not you; I'm not like you. You're my brother and I love you but..."  
"There's no 'but'. What happened to you, Sam?"

"I grew up, Dean. This isn't a game. We're not just chasing monsters anymore."

Dean turned away to stop from saying what he was thinking: "You're the monster now. Deserting your family and turning on your brother." Instead, he said, "We still have work to do. And how do we do it if we can't count on each other?" Sam reached out and rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean shut his eyes and lowered his head. Sam said, "we can still work. That's all instinct and experience. I'm not talking about work."  
Dean turned to face Sam removing his hand from his shoulder. "What are you talking about, Sam? Using me as bait so you can get your shot? Leaving me hurt somewhere because you've got a lead on something else?"  
"Come on, Dean I wouldn't do that."  
"Of course you could. You've got no responsibility to me anymore. I'm just another hunter to you." Dean was almost overcome with the weight of this conversation. He pushed pastSam and started to walk away. Sam also turned and spoke Dean's name, almost in a whisper and pleading, "Wait."

Dean spun back around. Sam could almost feel the anguish he saw on his brother's face. Dean's voice broke as he spoke. "wait, for what? I know what I am now. A hunter, alone, no attachments, nothing but my work. Just the way I knew I'd end up."  
Sam remembered how angry he became after Dean stopped him with Crowley. He recalled all the terrible things he had said in the past few days. Who was he to judge how Dean felt? When did he become so self-righteous? Or was he just punishing a substitute because he knew he was just as guilty as his brother? He stopped the trials because Dean asked him to. He stopped Dean because he didn't want to lose him.

This bond would be the death of them. 

Dean was waiting for Sam to respond. He had nothing left and, it seemed, Sam had nothing more to give him. He turned again to leave and Sam grabbed his arm to stop him. Dean said, "I've had enough." Sam answered, "no, Dean. I'll go." Dean let him go. He reached into his pocket as he called out, "Sam hold up." When Sam looked back, Dean tossed him the car keys. With a half-hearted smile, he said, "You shouldn't go out alone." Sam returned the smile and walked out.

Dean was alone, alone with his thoughts and the memories of the last few days. Dean felt completely alone now. No, he still had one friend; he reached for a bottle. 

Sam sat behind the wheel of the Impala. He ran his hand along the dashboard and around the steering wheel. This was all Dean. This was the home he had made for them before they found the bunker. He had no idea where to go. Drinking was very unappealing to him right now. He wasn't hungry; he didn't really want company. He let his fall back onto the headrest and just sat in the car. 

Dean poured himself a drink. He looked at the glass and swirled the amber-brown liquid. He put the glass down. When did he become the bad guy? Taking care of his little brother? Keeping them both alive? How do you turn off being a family? Dean swallowed the drink. 

Sam couldn't believe some of the things he had said. How could he do that to him? Dean had always taken care of him. was it Dean's fault that they lived this life? Was it Dean's fault that his only option to save him was a deal with an unscrupulous angel? And Dean would always try to save him. That was just fact. But was it Dean's fault that Sam felt the same responsibility to take care of him? He didn't want to lose his brother either, no matter how many times he told Dean to back off and let him live his own life. He had to admit, to himself, that stopping the trials had been his own decision. He may have done it because Dean was there, but it was his decision. 

The work would never be enough. He needed a family as much as Dean did. He missed having a brother. He missed his brother. He got out of the car.

Dean thought out loud: "What are you going to do, Dean, wallow in it? Did I just say'wallow'? He waved his hand in the air as if to erase the words.   
"Screw that. I love my brother and I will protect my family. I'm not apologizing for that. I'll do whatever I have to and if that means cleaning up the mess after, then bring it. He's mad at me; I'm mad at him. I ain't playing that game no more. And if Sam has a problem with that, it's on him. I'm good. Let the work be the work. I'm gonna be happy. I'm taking this home and hearth crap and I'm running with it."   
Satisfied that he had solved the major problems of the world, again, Dean asked himself, "Now.,what's for dinner?"


	6. Chapter 6

Sam leaned back against the driver's side door. He had his arms folded across his chest and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He looked straight ahead focusing on nothing. His senses felt overloaded. He was exhausted. His brother had always done so much for him and never asked, and barely accepted, anything in return. He wanted Dean to save him; he had to accept that as fact. In truth, he expected it. How could anyone do this job without some kind of backup? Even dad had friends and he always had Dean. But who does Dean have? Out loud he said, "He's only got me. How could he ever forgive me? I left him to languish in Purgatory, all that time, while I was happy and safe. " Sam rubbed his hands across the roof of the Impala. Then pushing his hands into his pockets, he started walking.

The kitchen was always well-stocked. They didn't work the nine-to-five so meals were unscheduled at best. He found the chicken in the deep freezer and placed it on the sink. The pantry was next. He preferred fresh tomatoes but they were difficult to keep so, canned would do the job. He stopped at the spice rack. Although most were supplies for spells and other rituals, this was an assortment worthy of a test kitchen. He picked up basil, oregano and a couple of other things then grabbed onions and peppers on the way out. Sam laughed whenever he caught Dean watching the cooking channels but, that's how he learned to freeze fresh mushrooms. He pulled the container out and grabbed the wine. After taking inventory, he began the task of preparing the chicken.

It would take a couple of hours but, dinner would be great. Chicken Cacciatore, perfect! 

Sam loved to walk. Out here alone he could think, solve all his problems. Well, it's not working this time, he thought. How was he going to fix this with Dean? He didn't mean half those things he had said. They were brothers; you just can't erase that. He thought maybe he could just apologize. Dean's a reasonable guy. He had to laugh at that. Then out loud he said, "Plus, I punched him in the mouth. He owes me for that." He kept walking. It was getting dark by the time he started back. He pulled out his phone to test the waters. No, he would do this in person. 

Sam could hear music as soon as he opened the door. This wasn't 'brooding Dean' music, this was 'happy Dean' music and he could smell the cooking. Sam walked towards the kitchen very uncertain of what he would find. At the kitchen door, he called out. But with his back turned, the loud music and his bad singing, Dean didn't hear him. Sam approached and tapped Dean on the shoulder. Dean's elbow came up quick and caught Sam in the chest, knocking him back a step. Dean turned with a knife still in his hand. He dropped it when he saw Sam and lowering the music he said, "You shouldn't do that." Sam raised his hands and answered, "I called out; you didn't hear me." Then he added, rubbing the sore spot on his chest, "I guess we're even now."

Dean started to turn back to his cooking so Sam spoke up. "Dean, I'm really not angry with you."  
"You sure fooled me"  
"Seriously, you always know what to do. You always know what's right. You never hesitate when it comes to me."  
"Sammy, that what you think?"  
Sam held up his hand and continued. "Please Dean, I feel so inadequate sometimes. Like you deserve better."  
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You, inadequate? Are you still drunk? You have to be the smartest person, the second-best hunter. There's nothing wrong with you that a little fun wouldn't cure. Everything's not that serious. Sam and I can't believe I'm saying this but, life is good."

Sam didn't know what to think. He'd never heard his brother talk like this. But he had something else he had to say. "I'm so sorry Dean. All I saw was Dick Roman explode and then you and Cas disappeared. I thought you were all scattered. How do I start to collect millions of pieces? And from where?  
I had no one, no help, not even a starting point. you were just gone. I couldn't think beyond the promise to care of the Impala so, that's what I did. And then I just drove."

Dean had no idea that Sam felt this way. He had to make it right. "So, you didn't save me. You didn't know where I was. Hell, I didn't know where I was. But, I got out." He patted Sam's face and said, "It's ok. we're not doing this anymore. You hungry?"

The non-sequitur threw Sam off. "Dean, you don't have to do this."  
Dean answered, "It's dinner. We have to eat. So, please.." He pointed toward the table that was set for dinner.  
Sam inhaled the aroma. "It does smell good. What is it?"  
Smiling and nodding, ok beaming, Dean answered, "Chicken Cacciatore.",  
Sam's face betrayed his disbelief. So, Dean explained. "It's an old hunters' recipe."*  
Sam asked, "What hunter taught you that?" Dean rolled his eyes and shaking his head muttered, "College boy." 

After dinner and clean up, the awkwardness threatened to return. Their thoughts lingered on recent events. 

Dean was determined to put it behind them. He had said all he would about all of this. They had finally gotten to the reason for Sam's outburst and it was settled, at least for Dean. They would be a family again. They would save the world and keep each other safe. Sam always envied his brother's ability to put his feelings out there and let them go. Dean could be a brooding son of a bitch and take some powerful prodding sometimes but, once out, that was that. Sam was a boiler. He put his feelings out and percolated until he was almost sick of it. He had hurt Dean. He had said some terrible things. But Dean was okay or so he said. He seemed happy now. They were friendly, dinner was nice. Why can't he just let it go? 

Dean suggested a movie. Sam was so relieved that the tension had eased between them, he let Dean choose. The film was unfamiliar to Sam, "Red River"**, a western but, Dean assured him he would like it. Sam was willing. He was just happy to spend a peaceful evening with his brother and have a little fun. They made their usual comments about the gunplay and the fight scenes but they enjoyed the story and the action. They found themselves involved in the relationship between Tom and Matt. Not really father and son but, family none the less. 

It's the story of a cattle drive. They suffer the usual pitfalls, stampede, lack of water, clash of tempers. At one point with the men close to mutiny, Tom gets tough. driving the cowboys beyond exhaustion. Three of the men run off, taking ammunition and food. When they're brought back, Tom wants to make an example of them. Matt finally thinks he's gone too far. 

Matt: "You're not gonna hang them."  
Tom: "Who'll stop me?"  
Matt: "I will."

With that, Sam said, "Wow, Dean. The kid finally stood up to him."  
His brother answered, "He's growing up. just trying to do the right thing, find his own way."

It was during the climactic shoot-out scene that Sam asked, "Dean, do you think he'll kill him?"  
Dean said, "He can't. He raised him. He loves the guy." Then almost to himself, he added, "I couldn't. No matter what he did."

When it ended, Dean was happy. "That was awesome, hey Sammy." His brother agreed. But it didn't take a genius to see the parallels with their own lives.  
Dean wouldn't be that calculating. 

It was only a cowboy movie. 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * known as hunters' stew. Cacciatore is a derivative of the Italian word for hunter and by the way October 15 is National Chicken Cacciatore Day .  
> * *1948 film produced by Howard Hawks, starring John Wayne and Montgomery Clift

**Author's Note:**

> * "Sharp Teeth". Season 9, episode 12. written by Andrew Glass


End file.
